This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
by joodai
Summary: Mokuba and Seto have a bike race... with a twist.


A/N: alright so... i wrote this like 5 years ago in 8th grade when i was ?? 13 i think and i had to dig thru my old google drive accounts to find this. it was an old school assignment that i actually turned in and got like a 100

all im gonna say is i had 2 change what kaiba corp does to make the story work (and so id have less of a chance of being caught for writing a ygo fanfic) Anyways on w the story

"Does it fit your expectations?" He flipped his shoulder length mess of black hair; a habit he had whenever trying to contain laughter. He couldn't help it, he could feel the sarcasm from his older brother before he even spoke.

"Yes. It's magnificent. I might just spend all day on it showing off." Seto ran a hand through his brown bangs. He did not put it beneath his little brother, Mokuba, to give him a pink Barbie tricycle for his birthday. "I'm done humoring you now, may I resume my work? I have a very important transaction to-"

"Give it a test ride!" Was Mokuba's persistent interruption. He couldn't help but smirk a little. Seto would do practically anything he asked, at his whim. Even if it were humiliating, or if the other had work. It was an upside to being spoiled, and he made sure to use it to his advantage whenever possible. "I don't want it to go to waste after spending good money on it," his face changed from a triumphant smirk, to a pleading one in an instant.

Seto glared at the tricycle. It was minuscule, and while he didn't have a loath for pink like a majority of men did, the flowers weren't something he enjoyed on it too much. The mere thought of riding it around, his legs jutting out, elbows at awkward angles, (not to mention how much he would have to hunch over to reach the handles) didn't make him too excited about riding it.

His eyes shifted over to his little brother's pleading face. With a sigh, he finally responded, "later." Knowing Mokuba, he was going to have to keep that promise.

Seto sat back from his laptop, rubbing one of his temples. It was easily four in the morning. After hours of staring at paperwork, listening to business partners drone and complain over the phone, and countless other nuisances, the tricycle had completely slipped his mind.

After he inherited his company from his father, which constructed, sold, and rented jet and airplanes, late nights and little sleep was apart of his daily routine. Was it the most enjoyable thing? No. But without it, he wouldn't be able to support himself nor his brother, so he kept quiet and did the tedious work anyways.

He pushed away from the table, opening the door to his office. As dissatisfying as it sounded, he was actually looking forward to his three or four hours worth of sleep. It was one of the few moments of relaxation he had in his day.

He blinked with confusion whenever the door hit something. Setp pulled the door open further, and his hand met his face at what was behind the door. However, Mokuba being as persistent as he was, this shouldn't have been a surprise.

The pink Barbie tricycle rolled back from the door hitting it. It met with the other side of the hallway with a small 'thump' after a moment. Mokuba had put it there several hours ago in hopes that Seto would see it. Which he had not until now.

Seto grabbed it and picked it up. The thought of throwing it away crossed his mind, but that idea was quickly thrown aside. Even if this was meant as a practical joke, Mokuba would be crushed. To the garage it was, then. From the corner of his eye, he noticed something small fall to the floor. It was a small note with the messy scrawl of a twelve year old on it,

'I challenge you to a race on your next day off. Your trike versus my bike. Winner gets a candy bar.

-Mokuba'

If there was any instance where Seto wanted to curl up and cease existing, it was definitely this moment.

The little brat just wanted a candy bar, and instead of asking for it like a regular kid, he was going to challenge him for a race with his bike.

Before he could really curl up and not exist, an idea sprung to his head. Seto casted a glance towards the tricycle, observing it closely. Who was he kidding? He was the CEO of a company who built jet planes! If anyone could upgrade it, he could.

Seto placed it on the floor and knelt down next to it, making mental notes of what he would need to change.

"Plastic needs to be replaced, it'll melt at high speeds... needs firmer seat... style of wheel..." His mumbling turned from complete sentences to random words as he delved deeper into thought.

Was he going to go through with this? Yes. Was he completely insane for thinking that it would be a good idea to give a tricycle jet plane features? One hundred and ten percent.

Mokuba stated blankly at the TV, not really paying attention to it. His mind was too busy racing with thought.

It had been two months since he gave Seto the tricycle, and ever since then, Seto had kept himself locked up in the garage doing heaven knows what. From what he heard, Seto had even taken an entire month off! The fact that he had never even taken one day off before without a very important reason was what bothered him. What could be so important to do in that garage that he had to take an entire month off?

Mokuba sat up, looking towards the door to the garage. He was tempted to check in on Seto, but the door was locked tight from the inside, and Seto had the key. He slumped back down on the couch, now more worried. Seto was still very young,24 in fact. The last time he was as antisocial as this was four years ago, when their last remaining family died, and he inherited the company. Was the stress of running a business and caring for his little brother finally catching back up to him?

Mokuba slinked off the couch and headed to the kitchen to grab a snack. To be honest,

he was scared to ask Seto. There was always the possibility that Seto would snap at him, or that he would upset him.

Seto pulled away from the tricycle, pulling off his gloves. He had decided whenever he started the project that it would be much easier to just build a tricycle from scratch over trying to replace parts from the Barbie one.

He admired his finished work. It was decently larger than the Barbie bike, so he while he would be in an uncomfortable position, it wouldn't be as bad. He had also changed the color scheme to silver with blue highlights, and the flowers were changed to a single dragon silhouette on the side. After several test runs, it would be ready for the race.

Seto tossed the gloves aside, and unlocked the door, heading into the kitchen. The first thing he went for was a glass of water. He swished the water around, raising his eyebrow at his little brother, who was staring at him as if he were an alien.

Mokuba sat at the table with his half-eaten orange, sure enough, staring at Seto with wide eyes. He had come out much earlier than expected. He shyly went back to his orange, not wanting to ask at the moment, since Seto was likely to go straight back into the garage.

"We can race the day after tomorrow," Seto's voice pierced the silence, causing Mokuba to stare at him again.

He had every right to, at that. His older brother just came out from two months of being in the garage, being completely antisocial, and the first thing he mentions is the race.

Seto downed the glass of ice water, then headed upstairs, presumably to go to sleep.

Mokuba pushed the orange aside and dashed outside to their driveway. His bike was right where he left it: on the backside of the house, leaning against the wall. He straightened it, and looked over the wheels to make sure it would ride alright.

He wasn't too into the idea of the race as of late, since he had long since gotten the candy bar he wanted through other means. But at this point, any time to spend with Seto was good enough for him.

Mokuba rode up on the designated street, excited. So he was going to get a good laugh out of Seth trying to ride a Barbie tricycle, and he was likely to get a candy bar. It sounded pretty nice to him.

He slowed to a stop, leaning on one foot to prevent himself from falling over. Looking over his shoulder, he finally saw a figure riding up in the distance.

Seto slowly pedaled up Mokuba. He wasn't in any sort of rush, and wasn't going to pretend to be in one either. He pulled up next to Mokuba, revering in the other's confused glances.

Mokuba was confused for several reasons. First of all, he had never seen that tricycle in his life. Was it what Seto had been working on for the past two months? Second of all, Seto had actually come. In a tricycle. Seto wasn't usually one to humiliate himself, in private or in public, so this was strange. Mokuba's face pulled into one of sheer horror once he noticed the back of the trike. Were those miniature versions of rocket boosters? Those were just for show, right? And what was up with the goggles?

As Mokuba's head swam with these questions and more, Seto sat back and enjoyed this moment. It was rare to catch Mokuba off guard, seeing as how spontaneous in mind the other was. He would enjoy pointing this moment out time and time again in the future.

Mokuba snapped himself out of it once he saw the smug look on his brother's face. Realization spread across his face. Seto did this on purpose so he would catch him off guard. Probably put the mini rocket boosters there to disorient him out of his mind. He huffed and steadied his bike a little more. No way was he going to let it get to him any more.

"Ready?" Seto's voice still contained smugness in it. Upon Mokuba giving him a determined nod, Seto shrugged and placed his hands on the handles. "You count off."

Mokuba blinked. And now he was giving him the advantage? This was bewildering. Nevertheless, he began to countdown from three, and on the word 'go,' he pulled his foot onto the pedal and raced off towards the end point.

It was determined yesterday that they were going to race for two miles and wait for the other at the end point. The end point was the end of the road, which opened to some forest and a large creek. A very simple race, since neither of them felt like complicating it with twists and turns, or making it too long.

Mokuba turned around to see Seto's progress, and nearly fell off his bike. Seto was barely past the finish line! It took every muscle in his body to stop himself from bursting out in laughter. He was going to enjoy this candy bar.

Seto was peddling as fast as he could, and yet was going nowhere. He grunted with frustration. It probably would have been smarter to oil the pedals more, or perhaps make the trike bigger. Looks like he would have to pull out the big guns early.

He jabbed a button off to the side of the pedometer, causing the rockets to begin their warm up.

Mokuba began to slow down, still looking behind him at Seto. What was the button he just pressed, and what was that noise he was hearing? His blood ran cold whenever he saw the first flickers of flames from the end of the boosters.

Well he was going to die. And so was Seto. Along with possibly the rest of the neighborhood.

Seto placed both hands steadily on the handles, giving Mokuba one last smirk. It was then the rockets activated. Seto flung forward at a breakneck speed, passing Mokuba in

mere seconds, and only continued to gain speed.

It wasn't until the sonic boom sounded that Mokuba fell over onto the street. Just so happened that at the moment the sonic boom happened, Seto hit a bump in the road. He flew up, spinning around in circles. In the midst of his spinning, Seto let go of the trike and allowed himself to fall off the trike and onto the ground.

He fell about twenty feet or so away from the end of the road, tumbling forward until he came to a painful stop. The wind was knocked out of him due to the force of impact and took several minutes to regain. As he sat up, he was thankful that he remembered to let go after about a second, for that was all it took to close the distance between the starting point and the end point at three thousand meters per second.

As for the tricycle, it was still circling in the air, but it was miles upon miles away now. Its engines would probably die out within an hour, for it wasn't meant to run long. Hopefully whatever it exploded on wasn't too important.

Mokuba stood up again and climbed back onto his bike, riding faster than before. It took a little longer than a half an hour, but he finally arrived at the end.

Seto was casually sitting there, elbows resting on his knees as he faxed at the clouds in the sky. He had several cuts and bruises, but besides that, seemed fine. As Mokuba abandoned his bike and scrambled up to meet him, he spoke.

"I enjoy Butterfingers."


End file.
